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Bush, the culmination of years of breeding and culture, who can trace his family line to some of America's premiere families, would be in the Westminster Dog Show, preening for the crowd and spinning around like a shiny top, if he were a dog. Fine of pedigree and proper of demeanor and raised in privilege and comfort, he expects to be given the prize for top dog. And throughout his life, those around him have always accommodated those expectations.
Bush acts in the manner of your finest pure breeds; vain, dull-witted and ill-tempered, bereft of some the best features of man's best friend. Instead of being a valued family member, he comes off as a leech whose main purpose is that of a show dog and will turn his nose up at his dinner, unless it was prepared by the finest gourmands and served in a sterling silver bowl.
Bush is a show dog in the most damning sense of the phrase.
On the other hand, you have the mutt. What is more loyal, lovable and loving, gentle and family friendly as a mutt? Always appreciative, since that day you rescued him or her from the pound. What will fight the good fight to protect you and yours, stick by you through thick and thin and is always willing to rub his cold wet nose under your hand to console you when he senses that you're having a bad day? Your mutt, of course. Clinton is like that.
The son of a step father, a man not born of riches and privilege, who looked up to those who were but used their exalted position to do the best that they could for their country and benefit mankind. That is what fueled Clinton's aspirations.
To this day, he has tried his best to follow through.
Clinton is a street fighter who is willing to mix it up, because his family needs the ferocity of his fang and claw. Street smart and clever, those are also some of the phases that can compliment both Clinton and the family mutt.
There's no better dog in the world than a mutt and you know it.
It's why we never hesitate to call Clinton, the Big Dog.
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